


No Perfect Days

by Vesuvius_ly (orphan_account)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: But Mostly Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Self-Hatred, not yet but they're getting there, references to the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 13:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19769350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Vesuvius_ly
Summary: As much as Crowley wants to believe in perfect days, that's kind of hard to do when the voice in his head says he doesn't deserve to live. Thankfully, a certain angel is there to remind him of his worth.





	No Perfect Days

If you asked Crowley, he would tell you that he didn’t believe in perfect days. There was no way that a person could go a full twenty-four hours without experiencing some sort of minor inconvenience. But today was pretty close. A soft rainy morning to wake up to. A wonderful walk with Aziraphale after the sun had come out. Lunch in the park and dinner at the Ritz. And of course the pinnacle of it all: getting absolutely wasted at Aziraphale’s shop.

Getting drunk wasn’t like it used to be though. Now there was a sadness to it that Crowley found himself desperately trying to hide. In centuries past, it was easy. “Coincidentally” run into Aziraphale. Realize that you’re still in love with him. Get wasted. Feel better. But recently alcohol had been making the hole in him bigger, not smaller. Hence: no perfect days.  
Aziraphale was rambling on about the many errors in history textbooks, but Crowley had stopped listening a few minutes back. Well, it wasn’t that he had stopped listening, but rather that he had stopped trying to understand. Crowley could listen to Aziraphale talk for the rest of eternity and be happy, but currently he was far too hammered to keep up with his angel’s argument of why John Hancock was actually a terrible person.

Instead of basking in Azirphale’s heavenly glow, he found himself shrinking into his own dark headspace. He had been doing that a lot recently. Wondering what the point of everything was. What the point of his existence was. Six thousand years he had known Aziraphale, and what had changed? Nothing. Not even his actions during the almost-apocalypse had caused Aziraphel to look at him differently. Sure, they hung out more now, but it was still the same. Pleasant friendship and nothing more. God above (Crowley winced just thinking Her name) he had stopped bloody time because Aziraphale had asked him to. He had stood with him through floods and wars and revolutions. He had walked on consecrated ground to save him from paperwork for Hell’s sake! Wasn’t his love obvious?

_It is. He just doesn’t love you back._

Of all the things Crowley didn’t want to deal with right now, the pessimistic little voice in his head was number one.

_You’re a demon. You’ll never be enough for him._

Shut up, Crowley thought.

_You think that you can compare to his light? He is good and kind in a way that you never were and never can be._

Crowley downed his glass of wine.

_You are worthless to him._

Be quiet or I will make you.

_You just want to pretend you can be like him. That’s why you’re so obsessed. One day he will see you for the pathetic leech that you are and then he’ll be gone. You’ll be all alone again and then-_

Crowley threw his drink on the floor, sending shards of glass everywhere. The world around him stilled, quiet for one single peaceful moment, and then Aziraphale placed his hands on his shoulders, bringing Crowley back to reality.

“I think we should sober up now, don’t you dear?” The angel asked softly.

“Yeah-yeah probably for the best.” Crowley agreed. Although if he was being honest the thought of being sober right now terrified him. Because being sober meant talking about what had just happened, and that was not a conversation Crowley wanted to have. One look in Aziraphale’s concerned eyes though and Crowley knew he had no choice. Let it never be said that he denied his angel anything.

Crowley pushed the night’s rum and wine out of his system, grimacing slightly at the bitter taste it left in his mouth. He walked quietly over to the couch while Aziraphale miracled away the mess he had made. Once all the glass was gone, the angel sat down across from him and looked up rather expectantly.

When it became clear that Crowley was not going to initiate conversation, Aziraphale sighed. “Alright then, do you want to explain what just happened?”

_No._

“I-um, sorry I didn’t mean to drop the glass. Guess I lost track of how much I drank.” The lie sounded obvious on his lips, and he knew that not even his trusting angel would fall for it.

“Crowley you didn’t drop it. You smashed it on the ground. I saw you.”

The demon in question continued to stare silently at the floor.

“If it’s something I said, then I terribly sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who broke the glass.”

“Yes but I’m the one who upset you. I know you and Hancock were sort of friends I shouldn't have slandered him like-”

“Nothing you said upset me. I wasn’t even paying attention to what you were saying.”

Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to look confused. “Then why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset!” The words came out louder than Crowley meant for them to, and the demon took a moment before speaking again. “I’m not upset, I just-ugh-get stuck in my own head sometimes you know? And I get stuck on these spiraling thoughts and then I’m arguing with my bloody self and then things end up broken.”

Aziraphale was very quiet. “Does this happen often?”

“Define often.”

“When is the last time something like this happened?”

_Two days ago._

“Last year.”

Aziraphale paused to think very carefully about his next words. It made Crowley’s skin crawl with anxiousness.

This is it. He’s seen you for the pathetic thing you are. He’s going to ask you to leave.

“Crowley, you know how much I care for you right?”

Crowley stiffened on the couch.

“I mean, we’ve known each other for six thousand years,” Aziraphale continued “I should hope that by now it’s obvious that I care for your well-being, but in case it’s not, know that I do. If something is bothering you then I want to help you with it. But I can’t do that unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t think you want to know angel.”

“I assure you I do.”

 _He’s only doing this out of pity. You’re nothing but a fixer-upper project to him. An angel could never love a snake like you._  
Crowley paused. “Aziraphale, why do you spend time with me?”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened in confusion. “What in Heaven do you mean Crowley?”

“I mean why are you here with me right now? Why do you go on walks with me and take me to lunch? Why do you get wasted with me every other night? You’re an angel. A literal being of goodness and light and I’m a demon.” Crowley spat the last word out like it was a bad sip of wine. “I can never compare to you. I can never make you feel happy the way you make me feel happy. I’m clearly leeching the light off of you and you haven’t done anything about it for the past six thousand years!” Crowley’s heart raced with fear. He had said it. Pointed out the obvious rift between them and now Azirphale would finally see why he and Crowley were a terrible match and he would leave and-

“Well pardon my language but I’m afraid that’s just bollocks Crowley.”

Crowley stared at his angel in disbelief.

“Crowley, dear, I spend time with you because I enjoy your company. You’re funny and brave, and though I know you would never admit it, a good and kind person.”

“Don’t say that.” Crowley growled. “It’s not true.”

“Why do you so adamantly want me to despise you Crowley? You’re not a leech. You’re not a bad person.”

“And how could you possibly know that?!” Crowley yelled. "Maybe I’ve been tricking you for the past six thousand years. Maybe the meetups and saves were all an act to trick you into Falling!”

_Now he knows._

The shame that rose up in Crowley was damn near suffocating, but Aziraphale seemed calm as usual

“Was it all an act Crowley? Were the past six thousand years just some ploy to send me to Hell?”

Crowley stared at the floor. “You know I’m not a good-”

“I want you to look me in the eye.”

“Huh?”

“If you’re such a terrible person, then I want you to look me in the eyes and say it. Say that you’re a hellish demon who cares for nothing and no one and whose only goal has been to make me fall.”

Crowley stared at his angel, the love of his eternal life, and tried to make the words come out. Tried to tell his angel the truth, but he choked on the words. After a minute of silence, Aziraphle leaned over to place his hand on Crowley’s own.

“The reason you can’t say it dear is because it isn’t true. I don’t know why you hate yourself so much, but please, please, try to see yourself the way I see you.”

Crowley tried not to tremble under Azirpahel’s touch. The amount of love radiating off the angel made him want to grab hold of Azirpahel and never let go. “And how do you see me angel?”

Aziraphale smiled, and Crowley’s world brightened.

“I see you a kind and caring being whom I can always rely on.” He sounded so confident, so sure.

He’s lying he’s lying he’s lying he’s lying

The voice in his head was still there, but with every second it grew softer. Maybe his angel was right.

“But how do you know Aziraphale? How do you know that I’m… good?”

“Because If you were truly such an awful person then I wouldn’t be so hopelessly in love with you.”

The room stilled as Crowley soaked in what Aziraphale had just said.

“You what?”

Aziraphale smiled, and for a second Crowley felt like he was back in Heaven.

“I said that I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Crowley’s mouth hung open, unhinged like a snake.

“I know it’s taken me a while,” Aziraphale continued, “but I was scared, Crowley. Scared of what being with you would mean for the both of us. I thought Heaven and Hell would hunt us down. I thought there was no way we could love each other openly and still be safe, and I didn’t want to risk your life over saying what we both knew out loud.”

“What we both knew? Angel, how long have you been in love with me?”

“Since you saved my books in the Cathedral.”

“What?!” Crowley yelled. “That was in the forties. How could you not tell me?”

“As I said, I was scared Crowley! I was on thin ice already with Heaven and the last thing they needed to see was me canoodling with the enemy. I was worried if Upstairs found out, that they would kill us both.”

“But you could have at least given me a hint that you liked me.” Crowley pointed out. “I thought you couldn’t stand me, what with the ‘You move too fast for me’ bullshit.”

“I am sorry. Truly. I knew how you felt but I had to put your safety first. I would have never been able to live with myself if something bad had happened to you because of me. I know I’ve been the slow one in all of this, but we’re safe now. Heaven and Hell are done with us, and I should have said it sooner but I love you Crowley.”

Crowley brought Aziraphale’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“I love you too angel. I have since Eden, since you gave away that flaming sword. I never thought that you would feel the same way about me though. I never thought an angel could love a demon.”

Aziraphale pulled his hand away from Crowley gently, and for a second the demon was worried he said something wrong. Instead, Aziraphale moved his hand to Crowley’s face, taking off the serpent’s glasses so that he could look him in the eye.

“You thought wrong.” Aziraphale whispered. “You are beautiful and kind and crazy. You are amazing and I love you.”

And before Crowley could argue Aziraphale grabbed his chin and pulled him in for a kiss. Lips collided in a desperate attempt to make up for six thousand years of lost time. Aziraphale’s hands were on Crowley’s hips, and the angel was pulling him so close that he was practically sitting on Aziraphale’s lap. Between every kiss Aziraphale was whispering the same thing.

“I love you I love you I love you.”

If the little voice in Crowley’s head was still there, he couldn’t hear it. He was too enthralled with the feeling of Aziraphale’s mouth on his own. Love surrounded Crowley like a blanket, and for the first time in a long time, he felt whole. This was pretty damn close to a perfect day.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I can't write fluff without first writing a bit of angst but oh well.


End file.
